Reunion
by LianneZ4
Summary: AU. After Neal is released from prison, he and Mozzie meet for the first time in four years. Neal/Mozzie.


**REUNION**

**Summary: AU. After Neal is released from prison, he and Mozzie meet for the first time in four years. Neal/Mozzie.**

A/N: A fill for a prompt at collarkink. Beta-read by citrinesunset.

* * *

"Hold still," ordered Mozzie firmly.

Neal shivered when Mozzie touched his ankle. "God, Moz…"

Mozzie frowned. "Do you want me to pick it or not?"

"Of course."

"Then stop fidgeting! You're like a cat on hot bricks! I can't work like this, Neal."

"Okay," breathed Neal. He closed his eyes and tried to distract himself from his hardening cock with random thoughts about Picasso, Goya and the bond forgery case.

It didn't work. With Mozzie's hands so near to him, Neal desperately wanted to pull him into a rough kiss and ravish him right there, comfort and romance be damned for once. Sadly, his manners wouldn't allow him to act in such a crude manner in June's foyer, which meant that he would have to wait until Mozzie finished examining his anklet. Then they could go upstairs, where they would hopefully start making up for all the irrecoverably lost time.

With incredible gentleness, Mozzie lifted Neal's ankle and slightly turned it so he could see the anklet mechanism from a different angle. Neal's breath got caught in his throat as Moz carefully pulled down the edge of Neal's sock.

In the past, Neal had had many women caress his body with their neatly manicured fingers and perfectly soft skin. As opposed to that, Mozzie's hands had sort of a rough feeling to them. Sometimes, Neal imagined he could smell grease from them; a proof of Mozzie's quirky hobby of playing with Russian Surplus equipment and other technical "toys". In his eyes, Mozzie's short chubby fingers were just as attractive as any woman's sleek hands.

Mozzie put Neal's foot back down. Disappointed by the loss of his lover's touch, Neal opened his eyes to see Moz studying his anklet with a magnifying glass. Neal smiled fondly when he noticed Mozzie's light scowl, a familiar expression that Neal had long ago learned to recognize as a sign of Mozzie's intense concentration. His cock twitched when Mozzie unconsciously brushed his thumb over Neal's exposed skin.

Neal could barely suppress another violent shiver. He felt like a thirsty, starved traveler in a dessert who came across an oasis and now had to wait patiently for whether he would be allowed food and water. His heart was racing, and it took all his effort to ease his ragged breathing.

_Four years. Four endless years, during which he had seen his lover for the total of seven times. God, how much had he missed this! The occasional messages passed through Kate had been a poor solace in his loneliness and despair._

Mozzie and freedom. Those had been his two prayers in the penitentiary. And now, they were both at reach.

"I can't do it," proclaimed Mozzie suddenly.

"What? You mean…"

It took a moment before Mozzie's words sank in, before Neal realized that he was truly leashed to New York. For once, not even his brilliant lover could come up with a miraculous getaway.

He squashed the feeling of disappointment. "It's okay, Moz." They both knew that it wasn't. The anklet was a 24/7 surveillance that would severely limit Neal's options. Also, while it could always be cut, doing so would mean that they would have maybe five minutes to get away, which highly complicated any escape plans. But if Mozzie said that there was no way around it, then they would have to deal with it as it was.

At the same time, Neal couldn't deny that there was also a bit of relief that he wouldn't be breaking his promise to Peter quite so soon. He casually put his foot down from the table and smiled at Moz. "Well, since that matter has been covered, why don't we take it upstairs?"

"I'll keep looking," said Mozzie seriously, ignoring Neal's statement. "I'll find a way. I'll contact friends. I'll hack into the Marshals' database if that's what it takes."

"Moz – " said Neal with a hint of worry.

"Do you think I can't do this?" snapped Mozzie.

"I'm not – "

"Because I won't have you play Prometheus for the feds. I swear, Neal, I'll get that anklet off you if it's the last thing I do."

"I don't think that Peter plans to feed my organs to the beasts," said Neal dryly.

"You're not taking this seriously. Neal, he chased you! He threw you in prison! Who _knows_ what the fed is capable of?"

Neal sighed. It was hard to argue with Moz when he was in one of these moods. "Moz. Mozzie. Calm down, okay? Look, Peter is – he's a not that kind of guy."

Mozzie raised his eyebrows. "_Not that kind of guy? _I saw the way he looked at you at your trial. And I watched you two this morning as well. If you think that just because he has a wife –"

"Is that what this is about?" asked Neal incredulously. He paused. "Wait, are you jealous?"

"Jealous?" Mozzie let out a mirthless chuckle. "No, I'm not _jealous_. Neal, he's your _handler_. He has the key to your anklet, he can stalk you whenever he wants, he can send you back to jail – do you realize how much power that is? How easily he could abuse all that?"

"I know," replied Neal. "I know, Moz. But I don't think Peter would do that. Besides," he raised his voice before Mozzie could interrupt him, "even if he tried, I trust you. I know you'd get me out if the feds started playing fishy." He reached out and gently caressed Mozzie's hand.

Mozzie released a shuddered breath.

Neal pulled him in a hug. "Come on, Moz," he said softly.

Mozzie pressed his head on Neal's shoulder. "It's been an awful four years," he murmured. "Neal, I'm… It's been awful," he repeated. As he buried his face even deeper into Neal's shoulder, his arms hesitantly embraced Neal's body.

Some of the tension between them dissipated. Releasing a relieved chuckle, Neal gently kissed the top of Mozzie's head. "Come upstairs with me?"

Mozzie swallowed. "So you… you still want me to?"

"What? Of course I want you."

"But –"

Neal shut him up with a kiss.

At first, there was almost resistance, so Neal pulled back the slightest bit. Then slowly, hesitantly, Mozzie's lips began to respond to his touch.

It was strange, like coming back to a familiar place after a long time, finding it different and yet the same. Mozzie's facial lines had remained nearly unchanged; however, where his lips had always tasted a bit fruit-ish, like melons or papayas, there was now a hint of something bitter mixed in. As they pulled closer and their kiss deepened, Neal could smell the familiar subtle scent of Mozzie's aftershave (_'for extremely sensitive skin – dermatologically tested'_). Pulling apart for a second, they both caught a breath while their eyes met. Then their lips joined again, but this time, they began to gently explore their mouths, their tongues touching; slowly, lightly, with a hint of shyness and hesitation.

When they parted again, Neal took a step back. "So… will you come upstairs?" he asked for the third time that afternoon.

This time, Mozzie squeezed his hand. "Lead the way."


End file.
